Don't Blame Me!
by Sally the Simpleton
Summary: This is the story about two people coming together because one of them believed in fate and because the other one was a bit too stubborn. Romance, humour & Quidditch guaranteed! (HrOW)
1. Default Chapter

Disclamer: I owe Harry Potte nose becomes about 6 m long Really I do! And I'm a real boy too!!! nose becomes so big it pokes your eye

This is the story about two people coming together because one of them believed in fate and because the other one was a bit too stubborn. Romance, humour & Quidditch guaranteed! (Hr/OW)

Every thing had happened because of her stubbornness.

_Not true! _

She always denies it, but it is true.

_Shut UP Oliver! If you want to tell our so called story, do it at least properly! And besides . . . Don't BLAME ME!!!_

Hello! I am Oliver Wood.

It had all begun in September 1999.

I graduated from Hogwarts five years ago. As soon as I was out from school, I started searching for a job as Keeper in a professional Quidditch League.

I was offered cheap places to crap teams. I knew I was known to be a good Keeper. My dad (working at the Ministry of Magic) had convinced the coach of Puddelmere United to watch my skills.

The coached –Mr. Robinson- saw and admitted I had talent. He asked me to go to a special Quidditch university for a year, and then he would come and see me again.

I worked hard at the Freedom Fly's Special Quidditch University. One year later, Mr. Robinson came back…

… And made me reserve keeper for Puddelmere United.

I was crazy with joy. The pressure on me was great, but I didn't mind one single bit! I lived up to my dreams!

I stayed at Freedom Fly's and continued studying between training and more training. I graduated two years ago from there.

During my time as a reserve, I had played during these two years three times: once for ten minutes, the second time an hour, during the British Inter Coup, the third time for three hours in the European semi-final Championship in Barcelona. Puddlemere won the semi-final, but was crushed by Germany during the final. But this gave me the first real opportunity to show my skills as a flyer.

The following season, I was made the Keeper –not reserve anymore- of Puddlemere United. The others in the team were…

_Boooooo-riiiing! You are supposed to tell a love story, not about Quidditch! What is it with guys and Quidditch and guys anyways?_

ANYWAYS, I was made Keeper. I received more money. A lot more money.

I had been living in a lousy one-room-with-kitchen-incorporated-and-one-bath-room apartment just above the Magic Menagerie in Diagon Alley. An error I'll never do again. One must have been used to the perpetual noise made by those damned animals, but I was definitely NOT.

And with me being a good deal richer, I decided to go and search myself a better apartment. I hadn't spent my pay during my first year as an official Keeper at all. I had a great deal of money, but I was saving it.

I was saving my money to be able to afford an apartment WHERE I WOULDN'T BE WAKEN UP EVEY MORNING BY HOOTS, MEOWS and/or other bizarre noises. (Sorry, animals are just so noisy.)

The prizes in Diagon Alley were way too high. My mum- a muggle-born witch, asked me to consider the option of taking an apartment in the muggle part of London.

My dad was a half-Purebred. I have muggle relatives, but my every day life didn't have much from the muggle world in it. I liked the muggle world; it was funny, and a bit exotic. But I could use devices such as television (which I actually was fond of), the telephone or the microwave (the best invention on earth after Quidditch).

So, off I went to Muggle London. I bought the news papers with the small 'search/sale' ads and sat down in a pub. September was warm this year. Outside, the sun was shining through the leaves, casting orange light on the newspaper.

I decided to close my eyes and pick any apartment that was on sale in the newspaper. Soon enough, I realized, after had pointed eight times in a row on the same apartment, that it was a questionable method.

In the end, I decided it was fate. Because no matter now many times I pointed at the news paper, it always landed on the same spot. As if there was an attraction charm on the bloody thing.

I read and re-read the little ad several times.

The apartment seemed to be nice enough: three rooms, one (according tot the ad 'spacious') kitchen, a toilet, a bathroom with an actual bath, a balcony. 145 000 pounds for 133 m². Not bad, _not bad at all!_

Expensive, but not too much so. I searched for a phone booth and contacted the phone number under the ad. The same day, I had an appointment to visit the apartment.

Outside the phone booth, the wind played with orange-red leafs, and I remember I smiled and watched the sky for a long time that day, full of hopes and awaiting towards the future.

_Oliver has the bad habit of making things sound poetic and pretty. Not that it's a bad thing in it's self. Sometimes life is easier when it's pretty. But this has nothing to do with our story._

_During my Sixth year at Hogwarts, I made my "fashion coming-out". During summer vacation I had got my under lip and nose pierced. I had a stud in my belly button already in the beginning of Fifth Year, but no one ever noticed it (well, of course not, it was hidden under my robes). During the same year, just at the start of Christmas holidays, I got my first tattoo._

_Due to a strict ''tattoo-relieving' campaign against eventual hidden Death eater's marks in school, my tattoo was discovered. It was printed on the inner arm of my wand hand. It's a self designed pattern; it's a phoenix, surrounded by strange flowers, which actually are spirals. When my muscles move under my skin, those spirals create a hypnotic movement, making it look like the phoenix is flapping its wings. Very chic and dead cool. _

_Of course, every one was dead-shocked by this. Who could have waited such behaviour from me? _

_After my phoenix tattoo, I got myself an eye-brow piercing, and got also a swarm of bats with each a rune inscription on them on my right tight._

_Teachers suffocated as they saw my new style._

_My school uniform was radically changed. Spikes ornated the plain grey plaited skirt we were forced to use (I also charmed it to be very short amongst students, and longer during class). My blouse's buttons were small skulls or hearts with a satanic cross in it. My robes were covered in patches and made out of leftovers of others cloths I designed. I wore the tie of whichever boyfriend I had at the moment (boys liked my freak style. Especially a couple of Slytherins). I wore heavy, leather black combat boots with bright coloured shoelaces and chains._

_After a while, people got used to my style, and soon enough everything was back to normal again. Except for my annoying dorm mates. They never recovered from the shock. _

_I had kept all my creative and musical talents hidden during my five first school years. I have no idea why. Maybe because I thought my muggle musical background was so different from the wizarding one. Or so I thought. In school, I formed a band._

_Our band became famous within the school and Hogsmade._

_And after I graduated, I was dropping (or rather, pushing a bit aside) the opportunity to go to University, and decided to continue doing music._

_Luckily, all band members graduated the same year expect one member (sniff…It was horrible to see her go all alone to Hogwarts…). We installed ourselves in a cottage too small for five people to live in. _

_Officially I moved away from Hogmade so we could be near London, where we performed more and more often. It would only be practical to have a place to stay there._

_I also did courses in muggle art and design. My cloths were a mix between muggle and wizarding clothing. I knew the chances of being a real designer were slim, but that was no excuse not to try. Besides, the courses were fun, and I truly missed the school atmosphere during my sabbatical year._

_But the true reason why I left was quite personal. _

_If it was too small for five persons, imagine six! Our second guitarist had moved out temporally to his girlfriend's (that was six months ago, and he still lives there). Our drummer had also a sweetheart. Our first guitarist and synthesizer/mixer were obviously so much in love they didn't see it. _

_As they finally (FINALLY!!!) saw that they were meant to be together and have big fat babies, my life became quite lonely in our cottage. It wouldn't have mattered if the whole place would have reeked of pheromones and disgusting über-tacky love if Junior (stuck in school) had been there. _

_So sometimes, I felt so alone in our mini cottage._

_To my horror, even Junior found love, and I was all by my self. With junior graduating and staying at the cottage, the drummer and Guitarist n°1 behaving sickly in love, and the two other members cooling with their sweethearts, I decided to move out. Move out to not feel so abandoned in my own house._

_That was why I searched for an apartment. _

_Oh yeah, by the way, my name is Hermione Granger. _


	2. Chapter 2: And so it begins

Disclamer : MIIINE ALL MIIINE ! … eer… The evil side of my brain is taking control again.

I would like to thank very, very very much the only person who reviewed me! It really warmed up my heart.

And the rest of you who didn't review well… YOU SHALL ALL BURN IN HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY.. Or at least a couple of seconds…

(Oh-uh I feel the waves of hate emanating from the readers)

Short chappie! Next one longer! Promise!

* * *

**Don't Blame Me**

Chtp 2

The apartment that fate obviously wanted me to go and visit was perfect.

It was big, and luminous. There were two bedrooms: one big next to the kitchen and the other one slightly smaller, next to the bathroom, with a balcony. The living room was in between both rooms and was twice as big as the smallest bedroom.

The kitchen was small. If you didn't bump into the oven, the handle of the refrigerator lodged itself in one's butt. Oliver didn't care; if needed, the kitchen could be enlarged thanks to magic.

The bathroom was big enough. A real, antique bath tub was in the middle of the room.

Obviously the previous owners had watched a bit too much 'Changing Rooms' (which in Oliver's opinion was surly a conception invented by the V-guy: basically some lunatics ran to your house, trashed it, and you were supposed to be all happy about it).

The room was all 'under water aquatic'. Some one had squished a toilet and a sink in a corner of the bathroom, just against the end of the bathtub. The rest of the room was painted in blue colours and hideously tacky plastic fishies and sea stars were attached with strings to the roof.

Charming. The lack of taste was even palpable for Oliver.

Oliver….

_Oliver is a completely sane person. Just ignore the fact that he talks in the third person about HIMSELF. And also ignore the foam sprouting from his lips. _

Hermione, wouldn't you mind shut your mouth?

_No, contrary to what to think, Oliver is NOT schizophrenic. He just channel surf his brain…_

HERMIONE ! Put your fist in your mouth or I'll lodge something entirely else down your throat…

_Kinky threats…._ _. . . Disgusting, yet strangely arousing…_

Err….

So even I could see how tasteless the bathroom was. Thank goodness the rest of the apartment, expect the bigger bedroom, had old white walls (which were now grey). The bigger bedroom had red retro wallpaper from the happy hippie 70ies.

The apartment was all in all in a good condition. The wall paper was falling off, and the rooms needed to be repainted, and you had definitely to do against the hideous bathroom. Small problems that magic could solve in a blink of an eye.

The only minus thing was that there was no chimney; but I figured out that I could install the Floo Network somehow. Lots of Muggleborns lived in muggle houses and they managed.

The old granny had stalked me through the apartment and enthusiastically showed me around.

I understood why fate wanted me to take this apartment.

It was great.

Of course, the old lady was quite surprised as I told her I was going to take the apartment straight away.

Of course, whilst I signed all the necessary papers, the old granny felt compelled to tell the whole story of the house.

… Great.

I thought I was stuck with the granny for the hours to come, as I heard a lock turn, and two voices approaching the living room we were standing in.

A young woman and an older man came into the room. The woman was obviously happy about something and widely shook hands with the man.

I should have sensed something bad…

_Bad? What do you mean, BAD?_

_I was there first! I had cast my eye on that apartment since ages. I had transferred half of the money on the old grandpa's account._

Ha! But I signed the contract first. So I was the legal official owner.

_But I paid the money, so it made me the owner of half of the apartment._

Hermione, you ARE the half-owner of the apartment.

_Oooh! Yes, my glass is INDEED half-full._

The young woman looked vaguely familiar. Maybe she was one of my Quidditch fans. Maybe she was the creepy girl who sent me naked pictures of her and letters written in her own blood. She could be crazy enough to stalk me.

But no, it couldn't be her. The scary girl had darker hair.

Well, because she has lots of piercings and a couple of tattoos, she might eventually be some singer from a band. Yes, that could be it! I have to go to these charity galas and other festivities with my (now ex-) girlfriend. I surely met this weird girl there.

But no, again it couldn't be her. I would have remembered if someone would have a lion tattoo in the neck.

Lion- Gryffindor!

Of course! She was from school – Hogwarts! But not in my year. She was younger than me. Light brown hair in wild curls. Brown, rust red eyes. Tanned olive skin, and a little exotic style- maybe Spanish.

Well, she had to be in Gryffindor – no one else would have a lion tattoo. It was impossible that she would have been on the Quidditch team- I would have remembered her, and besides I still have contact to those that were in the Gryffindor House Team.

She… Curly hair! Of course! She was Harry potter's friend. Bookish girl!

YES! THAT girl! The one who saved my last Quidditch season in my last year! Something Granger! Harmony maybe? Nyah – it was really uncommon…. Hellevi – urk, no, Helena? –Too usual… Hermine? ..Hermine…. Something like that… Hermione? OOOhh! Yes! Hermione Granger!

She was a Muggleborn… I think. Wasn't she frozen by that serpent thing in my Sixth Year? I think so…

Ooooh! Of course! Hermione Granger! I've seen her at that other organization meeting! Order of the Phoenix thingie!

Really smart girl. Possibly a brainiac. She'll surely be all tidy and do all the house work and stuff. Surely here to study some more and couldn't stand the campuses because of the noise. Heh… It wouldn't be difficult to dismiss her I guess.

I couldn't have been more wrong

Then again, she looked a bit scary with her dark make up and various holes in her face.

_Whilst Oliver had these deep inner thoughts, I again was wondering what on earth did a fake macho do in my recently bought apartment._

_I might be a Know-It-All, but at least, I am a useful one. I can remember very much. I recognized the fake-pretty, toothpaste-smiling, fake macho man as Oliver Wood, the Quidditch crazed moron. _

Yes Hermione trying to say something here?

_Well not a moron exactly. I had met a three times after he graduated from Hogwarts: once before the one and only Intercontinental Quidditch match I went to, the second time during a mass meeting of the Order, where famous Quidditch players, bands, actors and other known, reputed and influencing persons had been and where it was checked that no one was a death eater, and the third time I just saw a glance of him in Diagon, Alley, surrounded by small, idolizing fans asking for an autograph. _

_So you could understand I didn't have a very developed opinion about him…._

Hermione, every person you don't think has a 'developed opinion' is considered as a brain-dead moose by you.

_So? Your point being?_

… Nothing love, forget it.

Both of us stopped dead talking as we finally recognized each other.

Then, in perfect synchronisation we yelled:

"- WHAT ARE _YOU _DOING HERE?"

Actually Hermione yelled it. Or tried to with the raspy voice of hers. (Hermione, you should consider to quit smoking. It's rumoured it's bad for your health.)

"- Yes Brenda dear (Brenda is the granny in case you wonder), who is this boy?"

"- This fine young man just bought the apartment."

The man's face went blank.

"- So did I. I just sold it to this young lady."


	3. Chapter Three: Thoughts of an Idiot

**Author's Note** : new Chapter !

Cranky Puss : Here you go ! Brand new chapter.

Hope this makes at least someone laugh.

In other news: LONG LIVE BLAISE ZABINI! He made it! He's got his own name in the character list! YAAAY!

Yes- you guess it right… I will soon begin a Blaise/Hermione fic. YES!

* * *

Let us get some things straight.

No matter how much I complain about Hermione, I have to admit that she is a person with a golden heart. She's adorable and is ready to do anything in her power to help you if she's your friend.

…_. Oliver you just did something bad and I might find out sooner or later, right?_

Hermione Jane Granger has a wonderful sense of style, a great musical talent, is good in bed, has beautiful hair, a dashing smile, superb friends and marvellous band mates, an adorable cat and a very stylish room.

… _You've done something bad and someone is going to tell it to me…._

I actually appreciate her so much, I'll promise to clean up and do the laundry more often.

_OLIVER! TELL ME WHATS WRONG OR I'LL PUT A CHARM ON YOUR UNDERPANTS TO MAKE THEM THREE SIZES TIGHTER!_

Eeh…

She's a total pain in the arse. At least when you don't know her well.

_I AM A WHAT?_

The moving in with Hermione was hell.

Well not the first half an hour if it. Ok- the first half day was okay. We shockingly enough, barely knowing each other, accepted to live together.

Or rather, Hermione watched me with knifes in her eyes, then grabbed me by the hair and yanked me away from the living room to the kitchen.

I should have guessed she needed some serious medical treatment; but I remember thinking she was _funny._ I even though it might be even amusing to eventually cohabit with her (a thing I regretted later to even consider it).

I still remember the exact words she told me:

"-Listen. I need this apartment. You obviously need an apartment too. We have bought the same apartment at the same time. You know what it means?"

"- We have to cooperate?"

"- No, find those mummies, and fight to know whose going to have the apartment. The first one to die looses."

_Hehe… That still is accurate. The whole "fight-until-death"- thing. You up to it?_

No. Definitely not.

_Why that? Afraid of getting your arse kicked? Afraid of wetting your new robe?_

Actually yes. I am afraid of you. You are bloody strong for such a short little girl.

… _Ok, get ready for some serious arse kicking. I am not small! _

Yeah- just vertically challenged.

…

OWWW! THAT HURT YOU BITC-! FEMALE DOG! WICKED WITCH!

_You're saying it as if it would be a bad thing._

… And that's my favourite body part!

_Oh- I thought your penis was._

…

Like said, I should have already then realised she was insane.

But the warning voice of the inner survivor didn't reach my ears back then. I agreed actually to make a compromise with Hermione and the elderly couple. There is one funny thing with Hermione: she might be really rude to those of her own age, but she respected considerably the people that were over thirty years her senior. Odd combination for someone who tells kids to rebel against authority.

Anyways; as we both came back to the room the two elder people who obviously had been fighting, suddenly turned around and plastered the fakest smile they managed on their faces.

Hermione is surely the best diplomat I know. She didn't choose her right career by becoming a singer in band. She that kind of woman who could make world peace. Or provoke a war. … A second thought, Hermione, never go into politics!

She handled the discussion single handed. She pointed out the problem e had and the possible solutions. The possible solutions were following:

Kick me out and let her have the apartment

Kick me out, main me eventually, sue the elder people and let her have the apartment

Kick me out, maim me, sue the elder people, find out our both addresses, kill us and then take over the apartment.

At this point I was starting to protest. Yet when Hermione directed her speech towards me with her murdering eyes. I nodded and agreed on everything she said (I didn't want to get castrated)

The granny however stoped Hermione after she had talked bossily around for almost an hour.

"- Miss Granger…. I don't think we have to take such desperate measures. There is one thing you haven't taken in consideration: co-habitation."

Hermione stopped talking immediately. She looked at me uncertainly, waiting for me to protest I guess.

"- Yes, the old man continues, you could rent the apartment and live together… For a month or so and see how things works on then."

I was ready to accept anything; I didn't have a place to stay at anymore. I had given up my apartment at the Magical Menagerie quite rudely. I was willing to try it.

Hermione watched rather melancholy outside the window.

"- Do we have a time to consider this?"

"- Well, I'm ready to take the apartment now, Hermione, if you don't mind. Make up your mind now, or I'll claim this place to be mine. I'll give your money back of course. You can even have a little extra cash on it."

Hermione's face changed dramatically. Her eyes widened as her hair seemed to sparkle with electricity.

"- No way I'll let you have this place. We accept to cohabit!"

The papers signed in less than an hour, claiming the flat was now rented to Oliver Wood and Hermione Granger.

We walked out from the apartment slowly together and wordlessly I followed her into a café. We sat down, in front of each other, Hermione's eyebrows knitted.

"- How the hell did it come to this?"

"- I have no idea…"

I was staring at her face, trying to get used to her unusual facial decorations and tattoos. I didn't really realize what had happened during the last past hours. I jst kept on watching Hermione, maybe trying to convince myself it was real and that I have a flat mate.

I flatmate with scary make up and piercings and tattoos. A flatmate I barely knew. Nothing really made sense. Hermione ordered something, I don't really remember what, but I kept looking at her, not blinking once.

And then, just then, Hermione surely irritated by my staring, said the sentence that became legendary between us.

"- Hey! Don't blame me!"

We watched each other in the eyes and suddenly we started laughing and burst out in laughs. This whole situation was so absurd!

Somehow talking came naturally to us after that. We talked for hours, learning to know each other somehow. I realized Hermione was quite interesting and a person filled with paradoxes and contrasts.

_And I found out that there exists at least one Quidditch player with a positive IQ. _

Later on, I found out more things about her, which made me understand her. Hermione has the oddest of all talents: she was somehow very affectionate underneath her scary appearance. She's like a puppy, all murring and peeing everywhere, yet so cute and adorable.

AOWWW! Not again! Stop kicking me for Christ's sake!

_Stop comparing me to animals! You freakin' animal shagger!_

Anyways, the whole co-habitation thing didn't seem o be so horrible. Not until I met her friends, family and band mates. And her frightening smoking habit and even more dangerous alter ego.

I even thought Hermione could be my friend.

_Ha! You actually thought that? You really did live in your own world_!

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